


Stay Close, Don't Go

by shions_heart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Knight AU that you all will hate me for, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, if you don't already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He first thinks the words when he’s five years old. There are wolves in the forest surrounding their village threatening the livestock, and the men decide to drive them off. Kuroo speaks of going with them, with all the confidence of a six-year-old, declaring he’ll save Kenma from the deadly creatures. But Kenma sits terrified, staring up at his best friend with wide eyes, arms hugging his knees to his chest, and silently sends the words through his head, over and over.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please don’t leave me.</em>
</p>
<p>Kuroo, being strangely perceptive for his young age, looks down at Kenma for a moment, his wide grin slipping. He moves to sit beside him, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.</p>
<p>“Okay, Kenma, I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”</p><p>

<br/>

</p><p>(For the prompt, "Please don't leave me.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Close, Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> So I took my super painful drabble from Tumblr and expounded on it.
> 
> I'm so sorry.

He first thinks the words when he’s five years old. There are wolves in the forest surrounding their village threatening the livestock, and the men decide to drive them off. Kuroo speaks of going with them, with all the confidence of a six-year-old, declaring he’ll save Kenma from the deadly creatures. But Kenma sits terrified, staring up at his best friend with wide eyes, arms hugging his knees to his chest, and silently sends the words through his head, over and over.

_Please don’t leave me._

Kuroo, being strangely perceptive for his young age, looks down at Kenma for a moment, his wide grin slipping. He moves to sit beside him, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Okay, Kenma, I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

Kenma turns to bury his face in Kuroo’s shoulder, a shaky sigh of relief rattling his small chest. That night, however, the wolves howl and men shout, and Kenma’s father carries him to Kuroo’s house, setting him on the front step with an absent pat on the head.

“Stay here,” he instructs, before hoisting his axe and running after the men entering the woods.

Kenma turns, reaching up on his toes to grasp the handle of the door. He stumbles as he pushes against it, opening the door and almost falling to the wooden floor. Small arms catch him before he can even skin his knees, and Kenma looks up into Kuroo’s face, his bedhead making his dark hair stand up wildly.

“Kenma? What are you doing here?”

Kenma says nothing, simply buries his face in Kuroo’s chest, until the taller boy picks him up and carries him over to his pallet on the floor. He lays them down and holds Kenma close, stroking his hair and telling him that everything is going to be okay.

And Kenma believes him.

 

***

 

The next time he thinks it, they’re ten and eleven. They’re out hiding in a clearing, neglecting their chores. Kuroo practices with his wooden sword while Kenma watches from a shaded spot on a log nearby, wiggling his toes in the dirt. Kuroo slays invisible foes one after the other, then boasts about growing up to be the best knight in the kingdom. A knot forms in Kenma’s stomach, and he grips the bark beneath him, leaning forward, as he stares intensely at Kuroo.

_Please don’t leave me._

Kuroo inspects his sword, tapping his finger against the smooth edge absently. He glances sidelong at Kenma and considers him, before grinning crookedly and pointing his sword at the boy.

“Come on, stand up! We can’t be knights together if you don’t practice!”

Kenma doesn’t want to be a knight. It seems too troublesome and they’re always dying in battles. Kuroo doesn’t seem to think there’s anything wrong with going down in a blaze of glory, but Kenma doesn’t understand why everyone wants so badly to fight for a king who probably won’t even remember their names. But if Kuroo is set on becoming one, then Kenma isn’t going to be left behind.

He stands and shuffles over, taking the stick Kuroo holds out to him. It’s heavy, and it sags in his limp grasp by his side. Kuroo shakes his head and steps closer, moving behind Kenma to adjust his stance, hands moving steady over hips and sides and arms, until Kenma stands like a knight ready for a duel.

Kuroo grins and nods, taking a step back, raising his sword. “Engarde!”

Kenma blinks, as Kuroo stands and waits, watching him expectantly, amber eyes glittering. Unsure of what to do, Kenma strikes out hesitantly with his stick, lightly knocking it against the wood of Kuroo’s sword. It glances off without making much noise, and Kuroo’s stance doesn’t falter. He laughs, shaking his head.

“Come on, you gotta have more fight in you than that! Try to hit me!”

“But I don’t want to hit you.” Kenma glances toward the path that will lead back to the village, longing for his books that sit beside his pallet, most of them well worn from multiple reads.

“I’m going to take all your books and throw them in the mud,” Kuroo threatens.

Kenma’s gaze darts back to Kuroo, and he frowns. He knows Kuroo would never do something like that to his precious books, but he still reaches out and smacks Kuroo across the knees, causing him to jump back. He doesn’t get angry though, simply grins, that lopsided grin full of delight that makes Kenma’s stomach feel funny.

“That’s it!” Kuroo exclaims with a nod. “But you’re not going to get me again next time.”

It’s true. When Kenma strikes out again, Kuroo blocks it with ease. His training with the village sword master is paying off. As they fight and Kuroo shouts out praises when Kenma makes a good hit, or encouragements when he misses, Kenma starts to wonder if he should start attending the lessons as well. Everyone who does gets a chance to become the squire of an actual knight at the city’s tournaments where the boys show off their skills. And if Kuroo is planning on going, Kenma wants to be there beside him.

Eventually Kenma’s lack of skill determines the fate of the duel. His stick spins out of his hand, and Kuroo tackles him to the ground. Kenma knees him in the stomach in retaliation, but Kuroo simply laughs and pins him down.

Kenma’s heart flutters feebly, as Kuroo leans down and presses his forehead against Kenma’s.

“You’ll be a great knight some day, Kenma! We both will be.”

And in that moment, with his heart pounding in his ears, Kenma believes him.

 

***

 

When they’re twelve and thirteen, they enter their first tournament. The crowds are huge, pressing in on all sides, jostling Kenma, as he attempts to follow Kuroo toward the tent where the other potential squires gather before their tourneys to prepare. He feels very small, his chest tightening. His head starts to feel hot and stuffy, like he’s trapped in a wooden box, but then Kuroo’s hand is in his, firm and reassuring, and he grips Kenma’s hand tightly, as he pulls him along.

“Don’t want you to get lost!” he says with a faint smirk.

Kenma nods, clutching his wooden sword closer to his chest. He moves closer to Kuroo, ignoring the smell of sweat and dirt covered bodies surrounding him. Kuroo smells like the fields of home, of the grass and the flowers of that clearing, and it’s comforting. Kenma’s head starts to clear, as they reach the tent, and Kuroo pulls him inside.

“I’m one of the first ones up,” Kuroo says, after looking at the line-up on a parchment tacked to a post in the center of the tent. He turns to grin at Kenma. “You’ll watch me, won’t you?”

Kenma nods again. He moves to sit on a bench, pulling one knee up to his chest to rest his chin on, as he watches Kuroo pull on his leather breastplate. They’re using blunted swords for the tournament, but a hard enough thrust could be damaging. There are kneepads and elbowpads as well, and once Kuroo is fully armored, he strikes a pose, one hand on his hip, while the other rests on the hilt of his sword, its point resting against the ground.

“How do I look?” Kuroo asks, nose in the air. “Gallant, right?”

Kenma wrinkles his nose. “Maybe if you got rid of that bedhead,” he offers.

Kuroo stares at him a moment, before laughing. “You’re cheeky today! Must be excited about the tourney, huh?” He grins, reaching forward to punch Kenma’s shoulder lightly.

Kenma’s body sways with the shove, and he looks down at his own sword, turning it slightly, looking at his reflection in the scuffed metal. His face is pale, dark hair falling like curtains on either side of his yellow eyes. He doesn’t look excited. He doesn’t look like anything, but he figures that’s because he doesn’t feel anything. If anything, he’s nervous, because if he does poorly, that means Kuroo will become a squire without him, will become a knight without him.

_Please don’t leave me._

Kuroo’s gaze softens, and he reaches over to flick some of Kenma’s hair over his shoulder. “Remember to tie this back. You don’t want it getting in your eyes when you fight.”

Kenma purses his lips, not liking to expose his face, but he nods before hesitating. “Could you—?”

Kuroo smiles, pulling a string from his pocket where it was probably waiting for this exact opportunity. He shakes his head, moving to stand behind Kenma. His fingers thread through Kenma’s hair gently, gathering the strands together at the nape of his neck. He ties off the small tail, but instead of simply stepping back once the deed is done, he leans down and places a quick kiss to the top of Kenma’s head.

Kenma starts, whirling around to stare up at Kuroo. His face feels hot again, but for a very different reason. His heart is stuttering strange patterns against his ribcage, and even Kuroo seems surprised by his actions. He laughs then, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, for luck?”

Kenma can only stare, and Kuroo gets antsy under his gaze. He shuffles sideways over to the tent’s entrance, lifting the flap to peer outside. Kenma watches, standing slowly to pull on his own armor, as Kuroo turns his head back and forth before beckoning to Kenma.

“Come on! They’re about to start.”

The crowd is almost worse at the tournament arena, but thankfully since Kenma is one of the potentials, he’s seated away from the rest of the crowd with only a couple dozen other boys. The first one up is a young one, around Kenma’s age, and he’s even tinier than him. He has bright orange hair and a dazzling smile that catches Kenma’s eye, and when he fights Kenma finds himself leaning forward in interest, silently rooting for the boy. He loses, but he put up enough of a fight that the crowd still cheers for him when he exits the arena.

Kuroo chuckles beside him. “I hope you look that entranced by my performance,” he teases, and Kenma flushes, sitting back and hugging his chest.

Two more boys enter the arena before Kuroo does, and once he steps foot in the circle, Kenma finds himself transfixed. His fingernails dig into his palms, and he catches himself holding his breath, as Kuroo goes up against a much larger opponent. But Kuroo’s agile, and his reflexes are swift. He twists and ducks, blocking well and tiring out the bigger lad until his heavy swings fall so incredibly short it’s almost laughable. By this point Kuroo is swaggering, and he tips his opponent over onto the gound with a quick kick to the side, earning a laugh from the crowd. He bows, and Kenma rolls his eyes to counteract the quickening of his heartbeat.

Kuroo’s face is gleaming with sweat as he approaches the bench once more, but he looks triumphant. He reaches out to grab Kenma’s shoulder in a squeeze. “You’ll do just as great, I’m sure!”

Kenma doubts it, but he stands when it’s his turn, taking in a steadying breath. His opponent isn’t as large as Kuroo’s, but his face is intimidating. For a moment, Kenma considers simply turning and running off. But when he glances behind him, Kuroo gives him a wave and a bright smile. He can see him mouthing the words “you’ll do great!”

Kenma’s chest swells with something he doesn’t quite recognize, but it causes him to believe Kuroo. He strides out to meet his competitor with more confidence than before.

In the end, he wins, but he feels he owes that to Kuroo’s tutelage, not his own strength. He outsmarted his opponent using tricks Kuroo had taught him, using his small size to his advantage. It doesn’t feel very brave or spectacular, mostly like he was avoiding the confrontation in the end. Still, he can’t help but smile faintly as Kuroo grabs him in a hug, lifting him off the ground as he cheers for Kenma’s win.

They’re both chosen for squires, along with a dozen other boys. They’re sent back to their home towns and villages in order to gather their things, told to be ready at first light to be taken to the training facility where they’ll begin learning how to successfully serve their knights.

Kenma spends the night at Kuroo’s house, his father drunk and passed out by the time he got home. As they lay together on the pallet, legs tangled, fingers clasped, Kuroo gives him a grin, his teeth gleaming in the light of the moon through the window above them.

“You were amazing out there,” he says softly.

Kenma blinks back at him, unsure how to respond. After a moment, he simply decides to lean forward and kiss the tip of Kuroo’s nose. He starts, eyes suddenly wide, as he stares at Kenma in complete astonishment.

“I-I . . . what was that for?” he asks, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Kenma ducks his head, muttering an explanation that doesn’t even make sense to him. He considers turning onto his other side, to hide his face further, but then Kuroo lets go of his hand in favor of wrapping his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, pulling him close.

The reassuring thud of Kuroo’s heart lulls Kenma to sleep, and he wonders if maybe everything will be okay after all.

 

***

 

Then they’re fifteen and sixteen, three years into their training and on an uphill climb toward knighthood. It moves gradually, this thing between him and Kuroo, and it grows at a slow, comfortable pace. They migrate from holding hands and tiny kisses to deeper, more meaningful things. It’s like a slow burn inside Kenma that starts at a low heat and then grows until he’s boiling beneath his skin, and he feels like he’s on fire and drowning all at once. Sometimes it’s so bright in his chest that it hurts to even think about, and Kenma has to bury his nose in his books in the far corner of their barracks to distract himself.

He doesn’t exactly get along with his fellow squires, but he doesn’t despise them either. He simply has no opinion of them, and they don’t really seem to like him that much in response. It stings more than he knows it should given his lack of interest, but he feels insignificant and unworthy of even standing on the same field as them, eating the same food, sleeping in the same barrack.

One night, as all these thoughts pound inside his head, Kuroo has him up against the wall of the schoolhouse; stealing secret kisses in the shadows the moon provides. Kenma feels the hard wood against his back, firm and unyielding. He gasps, his breath escaping in puffs of white in the cold air, as Kuroo presses in close, warm hands snaking up Kenma’s shirt, lips migrating to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. And Kenma clings to Kuroo’s back, heart pounding wildly. He wants to keep this moment forever. He wants to remain there, with Kuroo. But he knows that’s probably impossible. Kuroo’s natural talent will place him with a knight soon, to eventually become a knight himself. But Kenma’s inadequate, clumsy, not exceptional in any way, and will probably become an assistant in the palace or hold some other lowly position.

_Please don’t leave me._

He lifts his chin, staring up into the dark, starry sky, and begs the gods for a little favor, a little mercy. He trembles, and Kuroo leans back just enough to look down at him, his eyes are dark in shadow, but the tilt of his smile is familiar.

“We’ll become knights together,” Kuroo insists quietly, lifting a hand to brush Kenma’s hair away from his eyes. “They’ll see how great you are. You take instruction well, you’re learning every day, and you’re always improving. You’re an important part of the group. All the other squires think so too.”

Kenma doubts it, but then Kuroo is kissing him again, mouth hot and eager, and Kenma decides to believe him.

 

***

 

They’re twenty and twenty-one, and Kuroo’s being knighted, just like everyone knew he would be. Kenma doesn’t applaud with the rest of the crowd, as Kuroo stands, grinning widely, and lifts his hand in a wave. Ladies swoon, men shout, he’s already earned himself quite the reputation. But then he leaps off the dais and runs straight for Kenma, lifting him off his feet in a hug. Kenma gasps, his head whirling, or maybe that’s just Kuroo spinning them around in circles.

When Kuroo sets him back down, the glow in his face reminds Kenma of the sun. Instead of being comforted, however, he feels despair creeping into him, because Kuroo is advancing, moving forward, and soon he’ll be out of reach, will burn to the touch, and Kenma can feel his heart tremble at the prospect.

_Please don’t leave me._

And when they lay together hours later, gleaming with sweat and panting for breath, Kuroo brushes his fingers through Kenma’s hair slowly, before trailing his fingertips down Kenma’s spine.

“You’ll be next up there. You’ll see.”

But Kenma has a hard time believing him this time. He doesn’t betray these thoughts, simply turns over and tilts his head back to kiss Kuroo deeply. He places his hand on Kuroo’s chest, feeling the beat of his heart quicken, as he prolongs the kiss. Kuroo’s arm pulls him closer, until they're flush against one another, skin against skin, heat merging until Kenma’s head is spiraling once more. He just wants this, just this. Just Kuroo. He doesn’t care if he gets to be a knight or not, so long as he can remain by Kuroo’s side, can remain one with him in body, heart, and soul.

He slides his leg between Kuroo’s, digs his nails into his chest, and loses himself in this moment that feels right and nothing else matters.

 

***

 

The battle was violent, and many knights lost their lives. Kenma knows this from the report, but the men sent to retrieve the wounded haven’t yet returned, so Kenma is left to pace back and forth agitatedly in his tent. The king himself had asked Kenma to stay, deeming his mind too valuable to risk on the battlefield. Although Kenma had been knighted as Kuroo promised, he has yet to see any action. When he realized how ineffective the king’s current plan was against the enemy army, he’d come up with a better one, and when Kuroo told the king, the monarch and wanted to meet Kenma personally. He then declared that Kenma would assist his war general in planning the attacks.

So far they’d all be successful, and this one was no exception. Only the losses were more than Kenma had calculated. The enemy had known, somehow, and were prepared. And now Kenma waits, tense, to see who made it through.

When he sees that mess of dark hair lying still on a stretcher, a small cry escapes his lips before he can register that he’s made a sound. Abandoning his post, Kenma rushes forward. The men carrying the stretcher pause, lowering it so Kenma can kneel beside it, grabbing Kuroo’s hand. The man’s face is bloodied, and there’s a broken shaft of a spear protruding from the side of his ribcage. Kenma can tell that the wound in severe, and tears fill his vision, as he leans over Kuroo to look down into his face.

The tears fall, mixing with the blood on Kuroo’s cheeks, and Kuroo’s eyes open weakly. When he sees Kenma, he smiles.

“Hey.”

Kenma tries to smile in return, but his lips won’t obey him. They quiver, and he bites at them hard, shaking his head quickly. He squeezes Kuroo’s hand tighter, the ache in his chest growing. It feels like a wolf is trapped inside him, and its clawing at his lungs and heart, searching for a way out. Kuroo’s face twists into a faint frown.

“I’m sorry, Kenma. I guess I was the one who wasn’t good enough.”

Kenma lips finally part with a wretched gasp. “Please don’t leave me.” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Kuroo chuckles, though it ends in a wince. He reaches up, resting bloodstained fingers against Kenma’s cheek. His thumb caresses Kenma’s bottom lip, before moving up laboriously to brush away the tears. “Of course not,” he sighs, his gaze fixed on Kenma with an intensity his words and tone belie. “I would never.”

But Kenma doesn’t believe him. Kuroo’s hand falls limp to his side, as his eyes glaze over, and Kenma drops his forehead onto Kuroo’s, closing his eyes, as the wolf breaks free and wrecks his body with wails that sound inhuman.

And he doesn’t think he’ll believe in anything or anyone ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


End file.
